Draconem Infernalis
by murder-ink
Summary: HichiIchi. AU."The world I see is engulfed in enormous flames, blood and greed." Meet Ichigo the fire dragon that wants to become human. Now add Shirosaki, the blacksmith demon and Grimmjow,the sleepy angry werecat. Their goal: to escape the Underworld. The enemy: strong. The price: more than they are willing to bargain. The result: chaos.(Full summary inside. Also, do expect smut)
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_I was born in fire..._

_Everything I touch turns black:_

_Green fields, purple fragile flowers,_

_They all wither under my touch._

_The firm strings of a violin, the glossy black and white piano keys,_

_They crumble too._

_The fresh breeze of the morning and the flower scented wind of the night,_

_They burst in flames._

_And the little squirrels, the fluffy cats, the innocent pandas,_

_They turn into blood..._

_I am fire. I am death. I am destruction of both land and sky._

_I was born in fire..._

~.~

The legend says that there are nine types of Dragons- The Earth, Wind, Water, Light, Darkness, Fire, Spiritual, Celestial and the Dragon King. Of course, the legend admits that most of the dragons have disappeared due to too many wars. No one knows if there has ever been a Spiritual Dragon or a Celestial. Or what it even means anymore. Some say that the Spiritual controlled weather and the spirits of the world. Some say that they were troublemakers. The Celestial is a complete mystery. It is also said that the Celestial, Spiritual and Dragon King are upperclass dragons, while the rest are common dragons.

The most common ones are Earth, Wind, Water and Fire. No one knows if there were light or dark dragons back in the old days. And then...the four elements vanished too. As humanity got stronger, in order to shield its existence and its evolution, they asked twelve brave knights to seal the mythical creatures in a different world. The secret died with them. No human being is aware of lies under their feet, what the land they're massacring has seen or borne. For them, it's a pink flowery world.

_That's why...I want to walk the earth again. _

I live in the Underworld- a plane of existence where the dry hills seem neverending, where the volcanos never sleep, where the sky is covered by thick black clouds and ashes float in the air. It's like our own personal Hell. I guess, in a way you could call it that. It's the place where all the demons hide- all the creatures of the night, all the creatures inside your fairytales books. We are all here, jammed in a place that has no limits, no time and no real space.

_That why...I want to become stronger._

Here, nothing stops a giant to tear apart a demon child, no one does anything when the ghosts keep stealing the head of dullahans. No justice. No order. No feelings at all. It's pure chaos. It's not like I am much of a hero myself- after all, I am here too. Just that I find this scenery dull. I've been watching for centuries, guarded by the warm embrace of the Great Volcano- the place I can, more or less, call home- and nothing ever changes.

_That's why...I want to become human._

Ah, yes. I've figured if I managed to become human, this whole world would reject me and let me live on earth. As I may not know if it's true or not, I think it's worth a shot to get rid of my hard orange scales, sharp claws and large orange wings in favour of smooth human skin. My breath would not flame anyone around ten miles radius. My skin would not make yours crawl as you'd set eyes on it. I'd be able to gently pick a flower, to hold a cat in my lap and pet it, to hold someone and love them.

_I wouldn't be made of fire... of death... of war._

The world I see now is engulfed in enormous flames, blood and greed. I was born in the heart of a volcano before humanity even started showing itself. I have forgotten how long has been since then and in return, humanity's forgotten about me.

_I want to rise again!_

A low growl forms in the depth of my throat. How does one become human? Can I become human? Rising my head from the lava that surrounded me a moment ago, I push myself out of the volcano. I've been sleeping for too long in there. Time to rise. Time to conquer.

_Time to change..._

* * *

**A.N.: This fanfic is a request from DragonGirl9897 from dA. I told my watchers there that since my 3 years anniversary was coming, I'd accept free requests. R&amp;R! Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it. **


	2. Chapter 1

**DRACONEM INFERNALIS**

**Chapter 1**

**Rust**

_I breathe fire..._  
_  
The air heats whenever I am around,  
__  
T__he ground shakes whenever I set foot on it,  
__  
The trees shake with fear whenever I spread my wings above them,  
__  
Animals seek shelter when they feel my presence around.  
__  
All because I breathe fire..._

~.~

* * *

**The Underworld.**

Well, the Underworld is not a world in which one can lie down and sunbathe like it's a goddamn private beach, although we got enough sand to put any desert on earth to shame. Well, that applies unless you're ridiculously strong. If you're indeed that powerful, then things are somewhat different. You don't have to fight to save your life, or that's how it is most of the time. You mostly do it to cure boredom or simply because you enjoy it.

While it's true that most of the Underworld consists of dry hills and volcanoes, that's not all. Across the centuries, the mythical population decided to settle down a bit too. So we built houses and soon those turned into villages and villages turned into whole cities with taverns, fairs, shops, brothels and other business like that. As to what we could possibly sell, well...I don't know if you truly want to know about that. There are people who sell normal stuff like magical items and then there are those who sell magical items too...only alive.

At the moment, Doomcaster is the largest city, because the land seems less dry here and there's even a river! However, it is not some dream-like city. The houses have, at best, three floors -ground floor, first floor and second floor- and the paved streets are narrow and dusty. Even so, people don't seem to care. They still dress up in the most expensive clothes they have and march on the streets with pride. Merchants shout all day and night, especially the night since most of the inhabitants of this city are night creatures, about their offers.

In this world, slavery is a thing. The rules are simple: if you are weak, you're a slave; if you are strong, you're free. To prove your strength you have to beat the Master. If you're born a slave though, there is not much hope for you. The rules still apply, but not many born-slaves make it out of slavery. Also, in case you're a slave, you have to be 18 to have permission to fight for your freedom. Once beaten, you're never free. That's why you have to be prepared. The sad part about it is that you never know when you're fully prepared mostly because you may never be.

The Master is the one who owns the poor unfortunate souls. As to how it all began...as far as I know, it all started when we, the mythical folk, has been thrown here. At first there were many fights and many were killed. Then, some thought: "_Hey, why not make you my slave?" _And it slowly became like this.

Another thing hard to miss in the Underworld is that the sky is almost all the time covered by ash and black clouds. When it's not, the sky is crimson red. The sun may shine, the moon may rise, but the sky is always some shade of red. The rain is rare. No one really knows about it. I haven't seen it, so I don't know. Some claim to know, but I call bullshit.

Time flows differently here, although I heard that not much. Honestly I have no idea. I've never been upstairs* so I wouldn't know about it. We have two seasons: the hot one and the extra hot one, each lasting six months or so. Right now, we are in February. The Elders decided to name our months after earth months. But in the underground community, we usually use different names. For example, what you'd call February, we call it Domare*. In Domare, the air isn't too dry and plants do grow. Also, it's the shortest month of the year- it has only twentyeight days.

**8:30 PM**  
**Domare/February 7th, 1671 Post Lapsum***  
**Ye Olde Orange Bar, Bull Street, Doomcaster**  
**Underworld**

It's one of the good nights. _Ye Olde Orange Bar _is packed tonight. From skimpy-dressed vampire women to one-eyed giants, hairy werewolves, leprechauns, angry cherufes and creepy ifrits. It's almost as good as a night at _The Last Shirt,_ the brothel in the nearest neighbourhood, only that no one is doing anything here. The air is filled with the heavy scent of various types of food, dirt, sweat, drink and who knows what else. The massive dark brown tables are full of chatty loud people who keep slamming either their fists or their drinks on the hard wood. The lights are dim and orange, the owner- Nurval, the shapeshifter- chose a simple type of magic to fuel the place. Easy, but effective, dare I say.

I am about to take a healthy sip from my Angel Twister- a marvelous drink, which I'd probably stop drinking if I knew the ingredients, but a tasty drink anyway- when my good for nothing childhood pest decides it's time to annoy me some more with his presence.

"Yo, Shiro!" with a wide grin plastered on his face, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, the blue eyed werecat, self-invites himself to sit near me. I growl in response and hopefully he'll get the hint and leave me alone. "Don't be a spoilsport. It's been a while," he pats my back and I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, twentyfour hours. That's like an eternity to ya, isn't it, Jeagerjaques?" I retort a bit more bitter than I intended.

"You're being uptight. Man, loosen up a bit!" he complains and he'd probably do that some more if it weren't for the waitress who finally brought him his drink and extra-size whatever he's eating. I cannot possibly call that food. It looks like a leprechaun puked on it. Well, he seems happy and he'll probably shut up for a while. "Want some?" he tries to move his plate in my direction slightly, but I shake my head violently before he gets any more ideas. "Well, your loss."

"I highly doubt that," I mutter knowing that he'd hear it anyway. He playfully punches my shoulder, but I don't feel like playing today.

Well, now you're probably asking yourselves whether I usually act like someone pissed in my Peach Mooncake or not. Let me answer that for you- I am usually pretty mischievous myself. Just not today.

"What's the matter?" for a while, he leaves his plate alone to look at me. I roll my eyes.

"Grimmjow..." I start as a warning, but he cuts me off in an instant.

"Don't you Grimmjow me. Spill the beans. Now!" his voice has abandoned any joke by now and I know that once he starts using this voice I either talk or he makes me do it.

"It's obvious, ain't it?" his blue eyebrow shots up at my sudden question and, for the first time since this conversation began, I actually turn my body to him and put down the drink. "Something's happenin'. I can sense it. People are gettin' restless. Deep down, they know it too. Their neverending worries reach me too," it's not a whine. It's a statement.

"I see," is all he says before stuffing his face again.

I, Shirosaki Hichigo, am a demon. As a demon, I have many names, but Shirosaki Hichigo are the ones I chose for myself. The others- Astalur, Danerach, Rusarin and many other names- have been given by my enemies and by people. Only the people close to a demon would call them by their self-chosen names. For example, if I hadn't been childhood friends with Grimmjow, I don't think I'd even know his self-chosen name and I'd have to call him Aezur. The name duality applies to all mythical folk.

As a demon, we feed mostly on other's emotions, but that depends on the type of demon one is. I am the kind that feed on emotions, but not just that. I can also consume food.

Being a demon, all I have to do, is lure others, make them do as I please. Some say I am an incubus, but that's far from being the case. While it's true that I, sometimes, enter human's dreams, I usually find myself too bored to even start anything. Sexual or not. I merely search their mind for their memories, thoughts, feelings and wishes.

Being born in the Underworld, I am one of the younger demons. I've been born in 669 Post Lapsum, which makes me kind of old, if you stop to think about it, but I am not. Really. Think about it- it is said there are demons in the Underworld from before The Fall. Can you imagine how powerful those must be? If they even exist, that is. No one knows about their existence anymore. They're like a myth of their own.

"Ya said ya had news," I suddenly say in a slightly accusatory voice.

"Ah, yes," the werecat stuffed his face once more before finishing his meal. "I'm sure it's only rumors, but Ithra, the troll, is getting married this month!" I scowl.

"No way, man. Even for a troll, she's ugly as damn," I shake my head. "It's definitely a rumor. No one sane enough would approach that _thing _with a ten foot pole. Like, come on, her dark circles have dark circles! No one can compete with that!" I flail my arms in the air as if to prove a point.

"That might be, but I heard her soon-to-be husband is actually decent."

"Nope. I ain't buying this one," I conclude. And there I hoped that he knew something useful for once.

"Also," he starts, probably sensing my irritation,"I heard that someone's burning down lone houses or hamlets. Ylin's, Golxon's, Trysorin's, Epyx's, Ipvia's houses are all gone. Not to mention that the wizards themselves haven't been spotted for the past month. They all disappeared and their houses burned to the ground. No one knows what's going on," he finishes in a more hushed tone, as if to not attract unwanted attention, although no one seems to be listening- they're all to preoccupied with their own problems. "And that's not all. Hamlets in the north are in the same predicament. The curious thing is that the streets are burned too. The place the hamlets used to be are now big black spots of ashes."

"That ain't possible!" I shake my head in disapproval, but Grimmjow seems pretty serious about it.

"I wouldn't have believed it either, if I haven't seen with my own eyes," at this, I can't help but raise an eyebrow. What does he mean? So he's seen it... Does he know who is responsible for this? "I was on one of my escapades in the north searching for fun, when I saw the first signs. First, it was Ylin's house. Then, Ipvia's. And then, there were the hamlets. One by one, the more I looked around, the less I wanted. It was like someone pressed their thumb on them and wiped them off the surface of this world."

"Could've been some mages. They always get a bit crazy when things are running smoothly in the Underworld," I offered knowing it probably wasn't the case. Sure, mages are a bunch of weirdos who happen to go nuts from time to time, but never like this. They usually mess up with leprechaun's lawn or steal a clurichaun's drink...anyway something like that. But nothing as complicated as this. Wiping off the entire existence of whole hamlets and wizards' houses isn't the easiest task in the world.

"I doubt that," he confesses after a while. "Some say that it have been an old witch or something."

"But?" I raise an eyebrow as to give more power to my question.

"But I don't think it was a witch."

"Why? It smells fishy ta me. And, usually, when it smells fishy, a witch's involved. Remember the Aelenor case? We all thought it was a demon who kidnapped and tortured the poor fairy. Heck, they all thought I was the culprit until they caught crazy Othar talking ta herself about it. Not that I wouldn't have been glad ta torture the fairy, but I really don't like it when people throw stuff that I didn't do at me," I shrug at the memory.

Demons are usually happy to be known for wrongdoings. It makes them more fearful and that's something to be admired for in the Underworld. While this doesn't really bother me, the fact that I get famous for someone else's doings annoys me to no end. It's not like I am some weakling and I can't get my own victims, so I don't need someone else's pray. I am strong enough to wreak my own havoc if I want.

"Just a hunch. Witches are crazy, but not even them are that batshit insane," Grimmjow tells me as he gets up. "I don't know about you, mate, but all this talk about crazy women made me crave for other stuff too, if you know what I mean," he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at me while his grin reveals his white sharp teeth. I roll my eyes. There he goes again. "Care to join me on a short trip to _The Last Shirt_?"

"Nah, I'll pass." I just don't feel like it tonight. Maybe all the talk about crazy witches ruined it for me. Or maybe a break from all the wrong-doing won't kill me every once in a while.

"Whatever. Suit yourself," and with that he waves his hand at me and gets lost in the crowd.

A couple of hours later, I am strolling down the crowded streets of Doomcaster, in search of something worth doing. It could be practically anything since I don't have something particular in my mind at the moment. Despite the large variety of people present on the streets, they all seem the same to me- young and old, women, men and sexless creatures- they are all here with the same purpose in their minds: have fun, cause trouble. Sure, I am no different. Just that...I am kind of tired of it.

Being among the old ones is not fun. I am almost one thousand years old and by now no one would venture to try anything funny against me. While it's a bit of a relief, it's also really boring. Ever since I was young, people were afraid of me. I don't think it really had to do with the fact that I am a demon so much...it was my appearance that frightened them, though if you ask me, that is kind of insensitive coming from people like Ithra, the ugliest troll alive.

Demons are born parentless. That statement sure doesn't make much sense. But really, demons just appear in the Underworld- like, oh what a sunny beautiful day...look, that's a demon! I remember my first moments in this world were featuring me on my knees looking at the red sun with no recollection of the day before. There are no real baby demons. Most demons are already pretty mature the day they are born, if I can call it that. I was something around sixteen. I looked like a sixteen years old human anyway. Some are born old looking. Some are not. One thing is true- our bodies don't really age. I look 21, but I've been looking like that for centuries already. We are immortal...ish. Unless killed, we don't die. And killing a demon is not an easy task either. There's no real key to kill a demon- it depends on each demon.

Also, if you aren't born a slave or simply don't belong in the slave world, then there's other kind of hierarchy. Mostly, it's based on how powerful and resourceful you are. The stronger the magic you posses, the richer you are, because it all depends on your powers to make your house, you food, your clothes.

Everyone is capable of magic. It floats in the air, it lies on the ground, in our blood, in our mind. However, some aren't as skilled as the others. That's how they end up slaves or simply poor. Everything around us is fueled by magic. Otherwise there would be no plants growing. Some Elders thought it would be nice to make a city that would resemble the ones on earth. I say they're nostalgic old creatures.

Being that old sure has its perks, but there are many downsides too. Like how most of them have gone insane and ended their lives or how simply no one knows if they exist anymore.

In the end, I resort to sit on a bench in the center of the city. The sky is dark red and the moon shines brightly between the black clouds. The wind is blowing gently and the few trees around here ruffle their leaves as if to stretch themselves under the touch of the soft wind of the night. It's probably past 12 am, but it doesn't matter. In some human dreams I've seen stars- little dots of light on the night sky. In the Underworld we don't have stars...

_**I wish I could see stars too...**_

_**Not only in people's dreams.**_

_**I wish I could just extend my arms a**_

_**nd try to reach them with my fingers too,**_

**_Even if it's foolish._**

_**I wish I could simply lie on my back and make stupid wishes on falling ones, have my chest filled with hope at the sight of them, at the thought of getting my wish come true.**_

_**The night sky looks lonely without stars...**_

_**This world looks plain without dreams****.**_

_~.~_

* * *

**4:06 PM**  
**Domare/February 10th, 1671 Post Lapsum**  
**The Corrupted Arsenal, Spin Road, Doomcaster**  
**Underworld**

Swords, daggers, axes, hammers and many other metal-made weapons lie on the walls of this room, as well as on tables, shielded by meticulously made glass by the gnome at_The Glass Writer_ across the street. The armor of Skodir The Great is hung on the right wall reminds the costumers of the Battle of the Three Thousands Dwarves that took place half a millennia ago.

Despite the mythical folk's desperate attempts at a somewhat peaceful lifestyle, those were still harsh times and wars were a common thing. I was part of that war. I fought against the dwarves. It was a demon versus dwarves war and it ended in seas of blood, broken bones and dreams. The demons were about to lose, so in the rage of it, a demon slayed down Skodir with his bare hands and took his armor ensuring the victory of our kind.

The shop is almost empty, so all I can do is sit down and watch my potential costumers from afar as they still think whether they should buy my weapons or not. I, Shirosaki Hichigo, besides being a demon, am the blacksmith of Doomcaster. I have stolen techniques from different blacksmiths from earth and came up with my own. Add some demon magic and tada! Your weapon's done. While they may not look like some special weapons, they have hidden abilities which can be unlocked only if you are worthy or, in other words, strong and smart enough.

Owning this store, it's a means of passing time for me. Since the wars are rarer these days and frightening people got a bit boring, selling magical weapons sounds like fun. Sometimes, interesting characters from other cities come to my shop and I get to find out what happens in the Underworld and in the underground communities too, sometimes.

Despite all being mythical creatures of sort, we still have criminals that operate in the shadows. While not all mythical folk is keen on being nice to their kind, there are some that think we should behave, like elves. They seem to have a strong sense of justice. I, on the other hand, can't care less. As long as we don't end up with police and stuff like that, then everything is fine.

Imagine how complex the laws would be! It's hard enough for humans to come up with them for their own kind...can you imagine what mayhem it would be if we came up with laws in the Underworld where thousands of races are living together? Not to mention that every person has their own type of magic, no matter if they are ghosts, demons, vampires, trolls or whatever. It would be a disaster.

That's why, crime is a thing here. Not that humans are such pure beings. They're as bad as us, they're just better at hiding it. Or more like, they are forced to hide it.

"Why buy an axe? A dagger is less of a pain in the arse and it still does its job," a ghost tells to another.

"That might be true, but I heard that a giant is the one who is destroying hamlets," the other says in a worried voice. Clearly, Ghost #1 is pretty unimpressed by Ghost's #2 reasoning.

"That's bullshit and you know it too. If someone is purposely destroying whole hamlets like they're flies, no axe will stop them," Ghost #1 explains and takes the dagger he's been examining for the past few minutes. "Let's pay for these," and he starts walking in my direction.

"Wait! I haven't chosen anything yet!" Ghost #2 whines, but the first ghost doesn't stop.

"I'll have this," and with that, his bony fingers show me the dagger. I nod.

"Excellent decision! It's good for quick, backstabbing situations, but not only. You'll probably know what I mean," I grin at the cloak-clad ghost before me. Judging by the voice, he is male and fairly young. He is tall and has pale skin on his hands. There's not much to tell about his appearance- a dark green cloak with hoodie covers his body entirely. Not even his shoes can be spotted. "Anyway, that would be 4 Feathers and 2 Bits," I say and the ghost nods and hands me the money, but does not leave.

"My sister wants to buy a weapon, but she seems unable to decide which would fit her best. Do you think you can help her?" he says all of sudden and I give him a knowing grin.

"Sure thing, pal. That's why I'm here," and with that I leave my desk and follow him to his sister. She is considerably shorter than him, but she's dressed the same way he is and I can't tell what hiding underneath. I'd say they are on a special mission- they don't want to get recognized by others. "Dawn or dusk?" I ask all of sudden and female ghost jump slightly.

"Uh...dawn, I guess?" she mutters.

"Imagine four boxes: one made of gold, one of diamond, of silver 'n' one pitch black. Which one would you choose?" I ignore the pointed looks her brother seem to be giving me from behind the hood and ask her.

"Well...silver?" this time she tries to speak louder, but she doesn't succeed much.

"Choose an animal from the following: raven, dog, cat, snake, hamster, wolf." I think by now her brother wants to cook me in a huge cauldron, but at least he is still behaving himself.

"Dog?"

"I see. I'd recommend you a crossbow. This one," I say pointing to from across the shop. "Ya want ta defend yerself without having ta be too murderous. Somethin' efficient, simple 'n' pretty clean- that's a crossbow fer ya once ya've mastered it. Though, I must warn you, ya'll need a lot of skill ta be able ta handle it. Yer not much of a fighter, ya prefer ta do it from afar," I say as I show her the crossbow.

"I'll take it," she says the next second I show her the crossbow. "How much?"

"Well, usually I'd charge more for a consultation, but I'll let that slip today. 3 Feathers, that's all." She nods and hands me the money.

"Thank you!" she tells before exiting the store and I retake my place at the desk.

The shop is empty and the old clock on the left wall ticks a bit too loud for my tastes. The air is still as the sunlight enters through the narrow, but tall windows of the shop. It's a peaceful afternoon in Doomcaster- the merchants still won't shut up about their peaches, the children bakenekos, tengus, furis and others shout whatever they please early in the day as if the place belongs to them. In a way, it does. In a way, it doesn't.

_So people _**_are_ **_getting scared._

Not like I didn't know. I can feel it in the air. The fear that pulsates in this city is generally palpable. If a few days ago, I was able to somewhat feel it, now I can see it everywhere. Apparently there's been other attacks too- including both disappearances and burned hamlets. And no one knows who's responsible for this. Some say that humans managed to enter Underworld. Which is dumb. As far as I know, they can't care less about our world, so there's no point in trying to wreak a havoc in here. No.

_The one responsible for this is one of **us**._

As to who might be capable of something like this...there aren't many answers. And none seem the right one. Well, anyway, as long as Doomcaster is safe, it could be raining trolls and I wouldn't lift a finger. Actually it's pretty good for the business- had more sales than the last five months this week.

_Hopefully, I won't have to use any of these weapons on anyone too soon._

It's not like I am avoiding battle. As a demon, I enjoy a good fight. It's more like I had enough of them for the moment. In the end, it's all the same. You attack, you dodge, you hurt, you get hurt, you win or you fail. The days in which my heart beat faster at the thought of a fight are gone- dissolved in the darkness of this world along with my dreams.

**5:00 PM**

The old clock announces the end of my shift here. With a sigh, I stand up and straighten my back. It's closing time. _The Corrupted Arsenal _is my shop and I don't have anyone to work with me. I manage it alone- mostly because I wouldn't trust someone like Grimmjow with all these blades and arrows. If I ever were to do that, the next day Doomcaster would be in ruins.

After checking the weapons, I take my long black cloak and put it on me and then exit the building. With a clap of my hands, the door closes and it seals itself, sinking the inside of the shop in complete darkness so one would be able to look from outside on the inside.

And with this, I leave for _The Last Shirt. _Might as well have some fun after this long tiring day at the shop. With a last glance at the dark red sky, I head to the infamous brothel of Wolf Neighbourhood.

_~.~_

* * *

It's a week later that things start to get out of control. Little by little, citizens of Doomcaster start to act more cruelly and bloodthirsty than before. Not further than yesterday, a jorougumo- a spider-woman- has been found stabbed multiple times on the main street. I can see it in the air too. Fear floats in the air so thickly I could practically cut it with a knife.

Even more people are buying weapons. If I were an elf, I'd probably close the shop forever so people would stop stabbing each other, but that's hardly a solution. We are all monsters in a way- no matter how human we may seem or not. The intent of being selfish, of committing crimes is rooted deep down in our beings. We'd still kill each other, weaponless or not.

"Come on, man! Someone needs to do somethin' about it," Grimmjow argues from across the table. Tonight, people are even more lively at _Ye Olde Orange Bar_ than before. Last week's events must have gotten them pretty excited.

"Maybe. But tha' doesn't mean it has ta be me," I say drinking my shot of Murder Vodka. Tonight I am either getting shitfaced or I don't have the right to call myself a demon.

"If everyone says the same thing you do, we'll all end up dead or worse," Grimmjow mutters clearly annoyed by my lack of interest in his newly baked plan.

"Dude, if I wanted ta be a hero, I'd join forces with the elves and the others," I say pointing at the table in the corner of the room where the 'Justice League' drank and discussed stuff quietly. "But I'm a demon 'n' I can't care less. Whether they die or not is none of my business."

"We both know that's not true. Even you have a heart," Grimmjow eyes me suspiciously as if to examine me better in case I actually don't have a heart.

"Pfft. Don't be delusional. I'm as heartless as I can be. A demon with emotions doesn't survive for too long. _That_, we both know is true," I point out before drinking another shot of Murder Vodka.

"Will you cut it out already? You're gonna get drunk before it's 10 at this rate," he scolds me but I shrug.

"Wasn't that the point, mum?" I scoff. I hate it when he tries to act like a motherly figure with me when he's centuries younger than me. And more reckless too.

"Don't fool around, Shiro. Something's clearly bugging you." I turn to look at him. His big blue eyes are filled with worry and he is biting his lower lip. "All this fear that took over Doomcaster is doing things to you..."

Oh, this I can't deny.

"I'm getting overcharged, ok? It's a sudden burst of fear after two centuries of no real activity. Last time people were so scared a war was coming. I've also gotten a bit old. I need less emotion ta survive. Plus, Doomcaster's considerably larger than it was 200 years ago. Back then, I didn't even live in the city. I need to dull my sense a lil' or I'll spontaneously combust. Wouldn't that be pathetic? A millennia old demon turned ta ashes after too much food. Not even an idiot like Ulrich would manage that," I mumble annoyed all of sudden.

At first, this whole fear situation seemed like a nice turn of events, but suddenly it doesn't feel so good. Grimmjow falls silent for a couple of minutes. He probably doesn't know what to say not to cause me to go full murder on him. I am known for losing my temper at the worst times possible.

"You know...I think we should go on a trip," he announces all of sudden after buying himself a Demon Crusher. I raise an eyebrow at his sudden statement as to make him go on with his idea. "Well, you're suddenly overwhelmed. People are getting restless minute by minute, so things are not getting better any time soon. Plus, we'd be able to investigate the problem on our owns."

"Hmm, I see. So ya say we should go see what's going on in the north..."

"Look, we may not find the real culprit. All I am saying is tha-..."

"Say no more. I get it. I should get outta here," he nods. "I say we finish our drinks and go home. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day 'n' I don't want ya fall asleep on the road," I tell him and he grins at me. "Good. Now that's settled...Cheers!" raising my glass in the air, I hit against Grimmjow's before gulping down the rest of the liquid in it.

_~.~_

* * *

**2:15 AM**  
**Domare/February 20th, 1671 Post Lapsum**  
**Underworld**

It's already been two days since we left Doomcaster and the difference is showing. Now that I look back at myself in the past month, I must admit I am a bit ashamed of how crancky and whiny like an ancient demon I became. I am silently thanking Grimmjow for his marvelous idea to leave the city.

So far, there haven't seen many people to cross our paths. We spend the nights walking and the days sleeping, although I, for one, don't require sleep. The sun is burning hot during the day and when you're outside the city it feels worse, because there's no magic shielding you from its deadly rays. That's why we ended up creating a small hut here and there so we'd have a place to sleep during the day.

Even if we are not far from Doomcaster, the signs have started to show. Something's clearly happening. At first, we just found houses burnt to the ground. But soon, we found more than that. We found bodies. Someone's targeting wizards. But why?

It's two days later when it happens.

By now, we've already seen entire hamlets turned to ash, people running scared without looking back. But we still don't know what commits these crimes or at least why. The few people we occasionally meet are too afraid to talk.

And just when we thought we'd better get back or simply move to another smaller city, we see a hamlet that is still in one piece. Filled with fear, but in one piece for now, at least. Naturally, we enter it and ask a few questions at the local bar. The bartender seems polite enough to tell us what he knows- which is not much, we've already seen it all.

He offers us a place to rest saying that he has a free room upstairs. We take the offer- after all it's easier to have an already made roof above your head than make one and try to keep it too.

We are currently sitting and eating breakfast when it happens. First, the ground started shaking. One thing about the Underworld: there are no earthquakes, so this was not a natural occurrence. Secondly a screeching cry erupted in my head and judging from the faces of the others, they could hear it too. The next second the entire bar is outside looking for the one responsible for the disturbance, but nothing seems out of the place.

_Until it rises..._

Next thing I know, the sky turns darker and a huge silhouette appears above the hamlet. For a moment, I even ask myself what kind of bird that can be, but then my vision clears and I can see its sharp claws, the hard dirty orange skin, the bat-like wings...

_It's a dragon._

And it wants to kill us all. Why would a dragon want to kill us? Up until now I thought they were a myth. No one ever knew anything about dragons and suddenly they're real and bloodthirsty. No matter how you look at this, it's ridiculous.

Grimmjow grabs me by my arm in order to pull me out of my thoughts. He succeed but not much. He gives me an exasperated look as if trying to trigger something in me. The dragon started burning down houses. Shit. This is bad. At this rate, we'll end up ashes. So we run. And we run. But the dragon is getting closer. I stop. Grimmjow tries to make me follow him, but I shake off his grip.

"I have an idea," I say simply, but Grimmjow is looking at me like I am insane.

And maybe I am insane, but we'll never know if I let myself die here. I start running back, towards the houses that burn like torches and people that scream of pain, surprise and anger. Slipping a hand in my pocket, I find one of my daggers and I touch it gently before I stop running altogether.

The plan is simple. Get the attention of the dragon. I start relaxing my mind and calming my body and soon, all the emotions around me are ten times more intense. The lost limbs of a vampire nearby paralyzed mines, the shocked face of a werecat mother almost made me lose my cool. Taking a deep breath, I manage to cool down and retake my actions.

_Dragon, if you're listening, I have a deal for ya.  
_  
I launch that thought to the angriest mind I can find, hoping it's the right one.

_If you stop the burning, I might even tell ya._

I try again seeing that the being is still grilling everyone around me. Grimmjow stares at me like I have, indeed, lost it. I'd probably do the same if I were him. Maybe the dragon doesn't have coherent thoughts. Maybe he doesn't understand what I am trying to say. Maybe I failed...

Just as I am about to turn my back and start to finally run for my life, the dragon stops. It lowers itself to the ground just above me and suddenly a smell of smoke, earth and death overwhelms me. Its wood brown eyes fix mine and it's breathing hard in my direction as if to challenge me. Time seems to stop.

**_Well?_**

A deep male voice sounds in my head. The dragon did not open his mouth, so he must be using telepathy. Despite it being male, it sounds a bit young. A bit curious too.

_Why don't we talk about it elsewhere?_

His nostrils flared, clearly not pleased by my answer. Apparently, he likes to show off and he won't back down just because a tiny demon's asking him to.

_How about ya tell me why ya keep destroyin' houses 'n' we see what we can do 'bout it, huh?_

I have no time to play diplomacy with a dragon when everything is burning around me. Also, I have a feeling that he is not the most patient creature around either, so better cut to the chase. Hopefully, he won't feel offended. Hopefully.

**_Fine. Follow me._**

At that, I let out a sigh of relief.

**_But don't think about ditching me. If you do that, I'll find you and I'll be more cruel than just set you on fire, believe me._**

He warns me narrowing his eyes as if to prove a point. I nod.

_I have no reason ta run. I ain't a coward._

For a second, I thought he smiled. Talk about insane. Anyway, it worked. The dragon rose from the ground and he started flying north. Grabbing Grimmjow by his hand, I started following him.

"Are you out of your mind?! What did you do this time?" Grimmjow starts shouting all of sudden trying to free himself from my grip.

"I talked to him. We're making a deal."

"You're completely insane, buddy. How the blue hell did you manage to talk to a dragon?! Until a couple of minutes ago I didn't even know that dragons existed and next thing we know, you're making deals with one! This better be a nightmare," by now he is more talking to himself than to me. So apparently no one was able to hear our conversation. I wonder if anyone can talk to a dragon or you got to a powerful being to do so.

Soon, we are out of the hamlet and pretty far from it too. The dragon is calmly waiting for us to recover our breaths, but his gaze never falters. He's studying our every move.

**_So?_**

I glance at him. He's tall. Incredibly tall. And suddenly I feel like an ant compared to him. I probably am. I probably look like one in his eyes. He'd have no problem crushing me with his foot. His skin is hard looking and harsh. Dirty orange as if it's rusty. His nostrils expire little flames now and then. _He's made of fire. _And suddenly there are a thousand questions to be asked, like how old he is, like if he has a family, like what he eats, how often he eats, how high he can fly and...

_Why did you kill all those people?_

Not that I care. I really don't. But the events of this month turned everyone upside down and I got overcharged by it.

**_I am looking for something. They were not willing to help me._**

I raise an eyebrow at that. So others can communicate with a dragon if the dragon wants?

**_No. Not everyone can hear me, only those strong enough. They refused to help me though. And before you ask, yes, I can hear your thoughts even if they are not directed to me. _**

The dragon shook his wings before retreating them on his back again.

_Oh, I see. So, what do you need?_

What could he possibly need? It's not like understand much about him. After all, I just found out dragons are real. And then the valley has been engulfed by silence. For a couple of minutes we all stared at each other, as if challenging each other to do something stupid and deadly.

_**I...want to become human.**_

**~TO BE CONTINUED~**

**A.N.: **This chapter has no beta. If you like this story and have time and good English skills (unlike me), you can PM me. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. R&amp;R. The next chapter will come out soon. Cheers!


	3. Chapter 2

**DRACONEM INFERNALIS**

**Chapter 2**

**Rage**

_I am made of fire,_

_Therefore everything I touch turns black._

_Even if I want to save it,_

_I can't._

_I am made of fire..._

_~.~_

* * *

**SHIROSAKI'S P.O.V.:**

I blink. Once. Twice. Ok, this is real. And apparently Mr. Grumpy Flames is pretty serious about his request too. Shit!

_Ya what?!_

He seems taken aback by my sudden outburst, but I have every right in the world to be shocked. I mean, c'mon, who in their right minds wish for something as fucked up as that? And since when do dragons even exist anyway? Why now? What made him suddenly wish for something like that? Couldn't have he done it...I don't know, sooner? Was he born last month or what?

**_Like I said, I want to be human. Can you help me or not?_**

He's started to grow impatient. Fan-fucking-tastic! Exactly what I needed! A pissed off dragon, who probably wants to murder me by now. Oh, what a joyous day to be alive!

_But are ya sure it's even possible to begin with?_

Well, putting all the oddities about this situation aside, is it even possible for a dragon to become human? I, for sure, haven't heard of it. But neither have I seen a dragon before and here we are...Aghh, this is confusing!

**_The wizards said it is. But they don't want to help me. They gave me the book with the spells, but I need a second party. I need someone strong to perform the ritual._**

Ohoo. So there's a ritual. Wait! There's a ritual for this crap? Wizards are creepy little weirdos, aren't they?

_So what? Ya want me to do it? I am a demon, not a wizard._

I tell him with a grin plastered on my face. This dragon looks more like a spoilt child than a legendary creature. This day can't get weirder. The dragon nods. Ok, it can.

_What does it require? My life or somethin'? Why weren't the others willing to help ya? It doesn't sounds like a big deal to me._

Of course there has to be a catch. A spell like that must have a downside too. And since it seems to be a complicated one, the downside must be pretty inconvenient.

**_Not really. If you are strong enough, you won't die. I think the downside is the Underworld would automatically reject me if I was human. I think they are afraid the order will be disrupted._**

With that, he hands me the book from underneath his left wing. I eye it suspiciously for a minute before opening it at the recommended page. Meanwhile, Grimmjow is completely shocked. I don't think he has breathed once in the past two minutes. Poor idiot.

_I see._

Indeed, the ritual does look like a strong performer is needed. Also, the performer could lose their life if not strong or careful enough. And not even the book knows about all the negative effects. Oh well. Apparently, to enter the human world, a portal must be opened...

**_What will your final answer be?_**

The dragon asks me all of sudden. I look at Grimmjow. I can't tell whether he knows what we discussed or not. I look back at the dragon. If what he says is true, there'll be chaos when the portal opens. I also wonder what other implications there are with this whole deal. What I can tell is that he is getting impatient and that I don't really have the luxury to think things through. Oh, to hell with it!

_Yes, but on one condition. Ya have ta take me with ya. And my friend, if he wants._

I say in a determined voice. The dragon nods.

**_Very well. Then it's a deal?_**

He extends his claw to me.

_Deal._

I put my hand on it and for a second I am pounded by heat. The next thing I know, he retreats his claw and looks away. Ashes are floating from my hand and looking at it, I can see my palm covered in black skin. I look back at the dragon and I catch him looking at me with the corner of his eye. He burned my flesh...and it's slowly regenerating. With my other hand, I take the book and turn to Grimmjow.

"Where are you going?" he asks me all of sudden and I stop to look at him. Wide eyed, Grimmjow is gripping my arm to stop me from going anywhere.

"To read this, of course. We're going to help the dragon," I state as a matter of fact and try to release myself from his grip. He arches an eyebrow at my statement and then frowns.

"We?"

"Yes, we. Are ya deaf or what? Now, c'mon, we don't have an eternity at our disposal," and with this, I manage to make him let me go.

"I never agreed to any of this," he mumbles under his chin. "What does it even want?" I turn to give him a hardened look.

"It's a he, firstly. Secondly, he wants to become human 'n' we are goin' ta help him. Now shut yer trap 'n' let's read this!" I say in a determined voice patting the old brown book, hoping he'd stop with the questions for now. With a sigh, he gives up and comes to sit near me on the ground when suddenly the sound of wings flapping in the air makes me turn my head on an instant.

_Where are ya goin'?_

There's a pause, as if the dragon is contemplating whether to answer me or not. My gaze never drops and, in the end, he answers me.

**_I'll go make sure no one followed us here. I suggest we move locations as soon as possible- I am not exactly tiny. I'll be waiting by the Great Volcano._**

I nod and the dragon raises himself to the sky, disappearing from our view in a couple of minutes, leaving us alone. Grimmjow lets out a deep breath- he's probably been holding it for too long already. I give him an amuse stare before opening the book.

"Where did he go?"

"Great Volcano. Said people might come lookin' for him or something," I shrug. This is going to be a long read...

* * *

Grimmjow's blue eyebrows unite in a nasty scowl. If looks could kill, he'd definitely pull this one off with ease. Lucky me, he cannot do such a thing, so for now I am safe. Or as safe as I can be, considering he looks like he is a breath away from slapping the soul out of me.

"Now yer overreactin'," I tell him feeling my lips curling upwards despite my (failed) attempts to keep my face as straight as possible.

One would say I am actually asking for a good punch in the face with a sharp sword, but I swear I am not! Knowing me too well, he chooses only to give me one of his disapproving stares, that I like to call a "bitchface". He has an entire collection, I'm not kidding.

"How the hell are we supposed to do all _that?_! I don't recall you being a friggin' wizard! No matter how powerful you are, you're going to end up dead, just wait and you'll see!" he explodes all of sudden. "I don't care if he murders you, you're not doing this ritual!" Despite knowing him for quite a while, I rarely hear him actually use a serious voice or even keep a determined face. Now, it's one of those rare- utterly terrifying- times, that I'd rather never experience. Ever again.

"What are ya? My mother? Knock it off, Jeagerjaques! I think I am old enough to decide what to do," I scoff, feeling anger starting to built up in me, warming me up. Suddenly it doesn't feel like a smart move since his face darkens considerably. "Whether I do it or not, I'll end up dead or worse anyway. But there's actually a possibility I'll survive this mission," by now Grimmjow looks like he _is_ about to kill me, but I continue my speech anyway, "He'd kill us both if we ditch him. He made it clear, idiot. I don't think he'd back off tha' one. Like...oh, I _know_ I promised I'd kill ya if ya ran away, but today I'm feelin' generous so let's go pick flowers together and ride on friggin' rainbows just 'cause!" my voice rises from my chest along with all the bottled-up anger, but Grimmjow doesn't seem to be too bothered by it.

Even so, silence fills the valley and for a couple of minutes all I do is scowl at the ground and try to regain my composure, although, if I were to be honest, I'd rather beat someone up right now than calm down.

"Fine. But I don't like this. I don't like this at all," pointing his tanned index at me, he drops his glare, but not his scowl and he sighs long and tiredly as if he's been ploughing all day and night. In return, I give him an amused stare and a full-time grin.

"I know, granny. Ya said that for the past four hours already," I tease him and playfully punch him on his bare arm and I gain myself a pair of blue eyes rolling completely unamused by what I just said. "Spoil sport. Live a lil'!" With the corner of my eye, I observe him quietly. Grimmjow opens his mouth to say something- probably a crude remark ala G.G.G. (Grimmy Grumpy Granny)- but he closes his mouth and says nothing. Ha! 1-0 for my awesome self. "Anyway, we should rest a lil' before we leave," putting jokes aside, I got really tired from all the reading.

Plus, the whole thing was written in a language I barely knew anymore and it took me _ages_ to translate the whole thing. He nods and without saying anything else, he builds a small house and seals us away from unwanted eyes.

The place is small and the walls are beige and cold. Hot air enters through the window and the deadly afternoon sunrays peek from between the pitch black clouds, that wander lazily on the red sky, every now and then. We're both lying on the floor, back to back, breathing slowlier and slowlier each moment that passes, both covered by two light blankets that won't stop itching my skin. With a short sigh, I peek a glance at my hand. It has healed itself almost completely, but I can still feel the horrible feeling of melting skin and burning bones. I close my eyes.

_Complaining won't do anyone any good._

And with that, I drift off to sleep.

When I wake up, I know on an instant that something is not right. Grimmjow is not by my side anymore. In fact, he doesn't seem to be anywhere in the small house he built before we took a nap. The night installed itself in the Underworld and its darkness engulfed the valley. It's one of those nights when the moon is not kind enough to show itself and lets the whole Underworld bask in darkness. Usually, I'd go on hunting trips on nights like this, but not tonight.

"Grimmjow?"

No answer. Not that I've expected anything like that- it's merely been a test. With a push, I get myself up from the floor and search the room with my eyes slowly. Being a demon sure has its perks; seeing in the dark is no problem for me. Being a somewhat old demon only helps this time. We, demons, just like wine, get better with age.

With an sigh, I decide to open the door and leave the house, left hand on my secret pocket in my long cloak. When I step outside, the first thing I immediately see is just how unusually _dark_ it is. Grimmjow, as a werecat, shouldn't be too bothered by it, but still- if it affects me, it affects him too.

My ears are on maximum concentration. In situations like this one, when eyes aren't much of a helper, better let your other senses take over. I remember when I was in my firsts years of life here and just how scary everything seemed. The most terrifying part was that I knew I had power, but I could not control it.

At first, the only thing I could hear has been the slight movement of the bare trees under the pressure of the wind. My nose has been the one which adapted faster. A faint smell of burnt flesh and petroleum tickled the insides of my nose and then I heard it- the faraway cry of a dragon in despair. The feeling, although barely perceptible, leaked in my being and the next second I found myself running north.

After minutes, that honestly didn't even feel like minutes- I'd say ages, but it actually felt like a timeless quest- I managed to climb the hill and then I was facing it.

I am facing the Great Volcano in all its splendor- far away from where I am standing hot orange lava is hopping from the large volcano like boiling water on the cooker that has been forgotten there by a careless chief. The valley is being filled up with liquid fire and above the deathly scenery, the lonesome figure of a dragon is floating in circles above the angry erupting volcano, crying in pain and anger.

Suddenly, a strong urge to call out to him takes over me, but I stand here, lips sealed and at loss of words or actions. As far as I know, he doesn't even have a name and if I stop to think about it a little, I realize just how little I know about this being and how much I am willing to sacrifice my life for him. Don't get me wrong- I am not doing this out of the goodness of my heart. If you want to blame it on me, blame it on my neverending curiosity, that will surely be the death of me one day. And judging by the latest events, this day will come soon.

What truly ticks me off about me not knowing a thing about this being is that I might lose my life for someone that is not even of import for me, for a stranger just because he happened to wish for the impossible and kill anyone who happened to walk his way this month. Just because I happened to be near him when he decided to go on a rampage and kill everyone.

_I find it utterly mortifying just how much power he has over my life, in spite of being a mere stranger._

"Quite terrifyin', isn't he?" Grimmjow's voice sounds behind me and I instantly turn to look at the werecat who looks bruised and dirty. As if sensing my inner distress, he speaks, "earlier, a werewolf came by. I don't know what he wanted, but apparently it had somethin' to do with you. Now he's gone," he grins triumphantly at me and I understand on an instant.

He took him on and killed him. I find myself nodding absent-mindly in his direction. I don't need an explanation. I also know why he didn't wake me up in the first place too. Grimmjow's always been a stubborn little one; he'd get into fights with anyone who tried to pull a nasty one on him, anyone who dared to belittle him and most importantly anyone who dared to set foot on his territory without a good reason to do so. And the unfortunate bastard has tried to do all of the above, which ended with his instant undeniable death. Some people are just not too bright, are they?

"Well, we should start moving anyway," I speak after minutes of silence and Grimmjow nods. "Though I wouldn't go near that volcano right now," I point to the spilling mountain ahead. "Or near that wrathful beast," I chew on my lip. "We should dissolve the house and stay here on the hill. I've already got the book with me so everything's fine." It takes Grimmjow a moment to move, but in the end he snaps his fingers and the house in the valley shatters with a low thump.

No one says anything afterwards and I fix my eyes on the flying figure from afar, watching it circling around the full of rage volcano and cry in anger, spitting enormous flames at it as if he is challenging the volcano or the lava to try kill him, although I barely have any idea why or if fire can even kill him. If my presumption is right, he's _made_ of fire. It would be fifty shades of ironic for him to be injured by flames or molten lava.

The night is almost gone by the time the volcano calms down. Grimmjow has not muttered a word in all this time and I haven't bothered to try either. He is clearly displeased with the last turn of events and I do not intend to add more salt on the burn than I already have. With a yawn and a stretch of my back, I stand up to my feet.

"We should get goin'," I announce and Grimmjow nods, before I extend my arms in the air and jump.

The air hitting the skin of my face and my hands is rough, a strange combination of cold and burning hot, and I close my eyes, letting myself be at the mercy of my surroundings. The cliff I just jumped from is really high, by humans standards anyway, but it doesn't matter to us. The harsh breeze brushing my ears loud, almost deafening and I find myself grinning like a mad man while the wind not so gently caresses my long white locks, while I am getting closer and closer to the ground, my dark long cloak fluttering behind me. Grimmjow is cackling insanely near me probably enjoying the feeling of freedom just as much as I am.

Unfortunately, I am among those demons who do not possess the ability to fly, so this is the only way I could ever get a taste of how it feels to be in the air, at the complete mercy of the wind. Grimmjow, too, must feel the same. Werecats obviously do not have wings, but being half cat he can land without a scratch no matter how high the cliff he jumps from is.

But the self estimated landing never comes. At first, I don't understand it myself so I open my eyes, confused by the absence of falling or hitting the hot sandy ground and I see the ground getting farther and farther away from me. And then I understand- I've been grabbed.

I search around and see that Grimmjow is in the same predicament, claw piercing through his white cloak and an absolutely outraged and murderous look contorting his features, while he scrunches his nose at the situation.

**_Are you two completely insane?!_**

The dragon's voice inside my head is firm, cold and almost angry, making it clear that he is trying to keep his cool and not do something rash- like killing us or at least trying to do so. I stifle a laugh at the thought of an huge angry mother dragon scolding her stupid brats for trivial things, like spitting flames on their father or not flying high enough. The dragon, however, doesn't seem too pleased with my reaction at his dead serious questions and lets out a low, unquestionably threatening growl.

**_You thought you could escape me by trying to kill yourselves, didn't you? You thought you two are smart, huh?_**

By now his voice is dripping with sarcasm and the land beneath us seems more and more distant as minutes pass, the air gets cooler as the dragon is carrying us north. The view, to say the very least, is breathtaking although I am highly aware of the fact that I am still not high enough to probably be completely devastated. Still, seeing the vast dry land under my feet, the Great Volcano just a small, now calm dot, is enough for me to feel in a way I haven't for quite a while already- excited.

**_Well?_**

The dragon's impatient, demanding tone brings me back from my appreciative thoughts. I let a long sigh through my nose.

_I can't die. Well, not by just jumpin' off a cliff. I'm not some weaklin'._

I explain simply and the dragon seems to be pondering my words for a while.

**_What about your partner here, eh? He can't die either? He's not a demon, like you. Nor is he as powerful._**

Usually, I'd feel a bit offended being accused for hanging out with someone weaker than me, but this time, I don't quite mind it. Grimmjow might be slightly weaker than me, but he is not dumb, and by no means is he actually a weakling either. He just happens to be a few centuries younger than me and a different race. I scoff, now suddenly annoyed.

_He can handle himself just well. He's half cat, remember? He wouldn't have a scratch, should he have landed._

**_Hmm... I see._**

And with that, he puts us down, at the base of the volcano, before sitting down himself. To be honest, I expected us to fall in deep silence again- it seems to be a thing that occurs quite often with our strange group lately- but instead Grimmjow shots up to his feet, face contorted with anger and a massive death glare directed in the direction of the dragon. What, did I actually think that he'd just stay put and let the being be? After what he's just pulled? No way!

"What the hell do you think you're doin', huh?!" he shouts at the dragon who is now looking down at him with a completely unamused stare. "First, you destroy people's houses and burn them to a crisp and now you didn't even let me have my fun? What're you, my mother?!" he scrunches his nose and the dragon's nostrils flare at the werecat, clearly annoyed with the tiny's being behaviour.

"Grimmjow, calm down. He thought we were tryin' to commit suicide," I explain, thinking that Grimmjow couldn't probably hear the dragon's voice if the being decided to actually answer him.

"Oh, so he's also lookin' down on me, on _us_! What the fuck, man? How can you be so calm after bein' belittled like that? Did you seriously lose it after all? Is it your age?" at this, I rise to my feet and next thing he knows, I pull one of my daggers from one of my pockets and quickly attack him, stopping my left hand just before the silver metal could touch the tan skin of his neck. I can see my face in his clear blue eyes- it's calm, serious and threatening, my pale lips pressed in a thin line.

"Listen to me closely, Jeagerjaques," I begin trying to recollect my thoughts. "I don't care if ya have your ego bruised by him or whatever, but goin' all macho on him won't help ya achieve anything! We said we'd help him and we will. That's that. He just thought we decided to ditch him. Maybe he just doesn't understand the limits of our powers. Maybe he actually doesn't care. Maybe he is, indeed, lookin' down on us," I turn to glare at the dragon who is watching us intently this time, "and if ya are, I'll find a way to make ya pay, don't worry," I point my free index at the dragon before turning to look at Grimmjow. "We won't be able to escape this world, if we keep tryin' to kill each other every damn five minutes!" my voice echoes in the valley, before lowering my dagger and putting it back in the pocket.

"Tch. Have it your way," Grimmjow says and brushes past me, the dragon, however remains silent.

"Good, now that everything's settled, how 'bout we eat and then discuss a little, huh?" I clap my hands and a table filled with food appears before me. Grimmjow instantly lights up at the sight of food and comes to sit near the table. Shaking my head in disapproval, I make two chairs appear near us and Grimmjow doesn't hesitate to sit on his.

_What do ya eat, dragon?_

I launch the thought at the being behind me without bothering to turn to look at him, though.

**_Meat._**

I arch an eyebrow.

_Care to be more specific or anythin' is fine?_

**_Anything's fine._**

Comes his instant reply and with the snap of my fingers a huge piece of raw meat appears before me.

_Is it good enough for ya, Majesty?_

I have to admit, other would consider my tone stupidly daring considering my current position, but I don't bow before anyone, be it a dragon or whatever. The dragon's nostrils flare once again, but I don't bother to take him seriously and dig in my delicious plate full of roasted beef and spicy sauce.

_Didn't I tell ya I was gonna make ya pay for lookin' down on me, on us?_

And now, I have some sort of a revelation- the dragon won't hurt me too bad, even if he craves for it like crazy. Obviously, he needs me to fulfil his dream and I highly doubt anyone would be stupid or brave enough to take up on his request. He probably knows it too and I bet he finds it absolutely displeasing that he can't just step on me and crush me like an ant.

Once I realize this, the small remnants of my fears dissolve into oblivion and now anger takes over myself for not noticing this earlier. I wonder if the dragon can hear all my thoughts right now even if they are not directed at him. Turning my head slightly I find the being constantly biting the meat I've made for him, as if nothing can disturb him. If he can hear my thoughts, he says nothing, so I turn my attention to the meal before me and drop it.

"Ah, as delicious as ever!" Grimmjow's the one who disrupts the silence, burping loudly before patting his belly with a pleased smile on his face and half opened eyes- just like a huge cat. I've seen cats in humans are fluffy balls of fur who are just too huggable for their own good- Grimmjow's not huggable though. His mood improves whenever food is brought in the discussion or in front of his face and I am so glad he's like that, otherwise we'd probably try to kill each other now, instead of sitting down at a table and eat silently or well, as silently as possible considering this is Grimmjow we're talking about.

The dragon lets out a noise, that resembles a snort, in Grimmjow's direction and I can't help but chuckle a little at the sight. Those two really hate each other, don't they?

"So, girls, let's skip the drama and see what this is all about, eh?" I say standing up abruptly, grinning at the glaring two beings near me before clapping my hands and making the table disappear along with the chairs.

I sit of the sand and Grimmjow follows my example, but without dropping his glare. Ah, his sour mood is back. I take the book out of another special secret pocket of my cloak and put it on the ground. With a disapproving nod directed in the werecat's direction, I turn my attention to the dragon.

"I'm gonna be honest with ya, dragon._ This _ain't gonna be easy. The book says clearly that a wizard is needed to complete the ritual, but hopefully I'll be strong enough to manage it," I warn and Grimmjow stiffens near me. "In fact, I am gonna read what this is all about, assuming that ya can't" I tell the dragon and the dragon slightly nods, albeit displeased with my words or with the entire situation in general. Ignoring that, I open the book at the page that holds our interests and began reading and translating out loud.

**THE UNDERWORLD'S JOURNALS**

**Transfiguration**

**-**Dragon to Human**-** _  
_

_While most dragons prefer to make an appearance in their original form, there are some that want to take up a human form, although the reason is still unknown. There's only one way for a dragon to achieve human form and the being needs the help of a very powerful wizard, otherwise they will not succeed. There's a spell, a potion, a time, and sacrifices to be made._

_First of all, both the wizard and the dragon must gather the following ingredients for the potion: the fur of a werewolf, a tooth of the dragon, the eye of a witch, the wing of a faerie, half a glass of pure demon blood, a fang of a vampire and a jar. _

_After all the ingredients are acquired, the fur of the werewolf must be burnt as the sun rises, on the day the spell is intended to work. Later in the day, before 12PM the wing of the faerie must be put in the large jar and let it bask in the sunlight. After 12PM the eye of the witch must be boiled and then put in the jar near the faerie's wing. Then the vampire's fang must be ground and thrown in the jar. Let the jar stand in the sunlight until 4PM. At 6PM add the dragon's tooth and wait. Half an hour before sunset, add the demon blood. When the sun sets, the dragon must drink the content in the jar, while the wizard tells the incantation in a low, but powerful voice._

I exhale loudly after I am done.

"But this ain't all," I add in a warning tone. "This is just about how to make ya human, but no one said anything 'bout goin' upstairs in here, so while ya were doin' hell knows what, I took the liberty to inspect this book more," I say cracking my knuckles loudly.

"Well?" Grimmjow prompts.

"To escape the Underworld we must open a portal, which is an entirely different thing," I announce, suddenly serious. "Not even the author of this book is sure if it will work, but there's a spell that does that."

Now the valley sinks in silence. And not without a good reason, this time. Let's say the transfiguration spell works and I manage to get the dragon become human. And then what? It's written somewhere in the book that, even if a mythical being becomes somewhat or even completely human, they will still be stuck in this world; in order to enter the human world, there's another spell and other steps to follow.

The book is old and the author is unknown and the language it's written in is one of the dead tongues of the Underworld. It couldn't have been possibly written by someone who was born recently. My guess is that it was probably written in the young days of The Fallen Mythicals, the very first days after The Fall, in a desperate attempt to go back upstairs, because nowadays no one dreams about it. Centuries ago, it was still a myth- people talked, but no one knew. Today is a mere fantasy that all ignore.

"I suggest that we open the portal first 'n' escape and then we make ya human," I announce out loud, allowing Grimmjow to know about my plan too. All the eyes are on my figure by now so I continue. "We need our full forces to escape. We don't know what might happen. It can prove to be a piece o' cake, but it can also go impossibly wrong 'n' I can't risk that," I explain, dead serious hoping to have my message get through the dragon's stubbornness. "Unless, of course, yer aim's only to become human 'n' live in the Underworld for the rest of yer life," I shrug, my voice suddenly indifferent. The dragon glares at me and I give him a teasing smirk.

"So what's goin' to be, dragon?" Grimmjow snarls angrily at him, standing up suddenly and the dragon throws him a nasty stare.

**_Let's open the portal._**

He says in the end, in a more resigned voice and a triumphant grin curls my lips upwards. So he's not completely idiotic and stubborn. Good to know, I wouldn't want to associate myself with some snotnosed brat. As if he heard my earlier thoughts, the dragon's nostrils flare in my direction and I laugh. Oh, this is going to be one hell of a mission! Literally, I suppose.

"Tch," Grimmjow clicks his tongue beside me.

"He said he'd do it, calm yo' tits, kitty," I snarl at him and Grimmjow rolls his eyes still not pleased with the whole arrangement and especially not my words, but he calms down. "Yosh!" I shoot up to my feet, my fist in the air. "We should start hunting for the ingredients for the spell," I announce and the dragon nods slightly.

"That's true, but where are we going to find all these things?"

"Good question, kitty!" Grimmjow's nostrils flare, but the dragon pays him no attention, instead he fixes me with an impatient look. "I say we go back to Doomcaster!"

**To be continued...**


	4. Chapter 3

**DRACONEM INFERNALIS**

**Chapter 3**

**Run!**

_"Watch me rise above the world,_

_For I have rusty wings and the eyes of an eagle._

_Hear me cry my rage up in the dark sky,_

_Smell the heavy smoke that surrounds you now,_

_For you're dying by my flames tonight!"_

* * *

** Shirosaki's P.O.V.:**

The Underworld sun is slowly diving into the night, painting the valley in crimson red. It's quiet. Not even the rustling of our robes when we move is strong enough to disturb the unsettling silence. The dragon flew us back to the valley in which the werewolf attacked us and then disappeared without a word, leaving Grimmjow and I to walk to Doomcaster by foot. The air is hot and humid and our feet seem to sink in the soft, yet rough sand. A lonely crow is flying above us, crying its sorrows out loud, but neither of us pay it too much attention.

By the time we arrive in the nearest village, the sun is almost set, long shadows covering the streets and the dusty buildings nearby. Almost everyone is inside, but the lights are off and the curtains cover the dirty tall windows of the houses.

"It's them!" suddenly, someone shouts and my head snaps in the direction of the sound. A fat man with messy greasy hair and long beard is pointing his index at us, fear and anger contorting his features. I arch an eyebrow at him, but before I can say anything, a group of creatures surround us, all saying incorrigible things, but to me it's clear- they both hate and fear us. My hand instantly touches the blade I keep hidden in my long cloak.

Grimmjow is the first one to speak. "Whaddya want, you bunch of fools?" he shouts at the people around us and suddenly it becomes silent. A tall dark hooded creature steps out of the circle and stops right before us. After minutes of silence and stillness, the creature digs one of its hand in the pocket of its long jacket and takes out a yellow paper, shoving it in our faces without saying anything.

With a sudden breeze caressing the village, the paper starts rustling and twisting before our eyes, but I can see it. I can see the two figures of two men and one of a dragon's.

**WANTED: **

**DEAD OR ALIVE, THE TAMER AND HIS ACCOMPLICE. **

"You brought chaos upon the Underworld, destroyed hamlets, made Doomcaster go berserk and killed the most powerful wizards ever," he/it announces in a deep grave voice. "The King wants your head, boy!" he shouts and suddenly the crowd starts yelling in approval, fists in the air. I steal a quick glance in Grimmjow's direction, our eyes meet and we both nod before going off on battle mode.

Next thing I know, I draw one of my daggers and speed-attack the tall figure, aiming for his neck, but as soon as I think the blade should touch him, he moves, if only a centimetre. I nearly fall on my knees, but I regain my composure quickly and while grabbing my other dagger I launch myself on my feet and attack the man again, this time trying to hit his back. But his right hand stops me applying a precise hit on my covered neck, slicing my hood and uncovering my face. I rip off the rest of the hood and throw it in the wind.

"Astalur," he says in his monotone deep voice and I grin.

"Damn right, idiot!" I attack him as quickly as I can, aiming directly for his head and hitting him successfully. He collapses to the ground and I quickly search for Grimmjow who is swinging his sword right and left slicing everyone who dares to come near him. _"Yo, let's move!" _I launch a thought at him and he seems to get it, because soon he is near me and we are both speed-running out of this place. Angry shouts addressed to us soon dissipate in the bloody red evening and so do we.

As soon as we are in a deserted area, we stop to regain our breath, hands on the knees, backs bent. It's completely dark by now and a gentle breeze caresses our faces. I take the time to reconstruct my hood, highly aware of Grimmjow's steady stare on me.

"We ain't gonna get back easily to Doomcaster, you know," he says in the end. "The Underworld is on our asses," he adds. _And it's all your fault. _He'd add, but he doesn't, knowing too well that I know.

"It wouldn't be the first time," I state, a grin plastered on my face as I look at him. But he doesn't look too pleased with my statement and he grimaces.

"Those were old times. I thought we left them behind!" he nearly shouts. "I thought we agreed that you'd fucking keep your head out of trouble!" he spits. "The Underworld is not your playground, Shirosaki! This is not the old times! People have settled down! People came to some sort of peace with each other. You" he points his index at me, "have destroyed that."

My grin drops all of sudden. "If I recall correctly, I stopped the dragon from burning people. Also, if what I remember is right, the dragon started the murders, not me," I tell him as calmly as I can. "I did not raise chaos, I stopped it, you fuckin' ingrate!" I yell the last words ending the discussion. Grimmjow throws a nasty stare at me, but says nothing because he probably knows I am right. Or at least he should know. "We're going to sneak in Doomcaster, take the weapons and dissolve the shop." I tell him, slightly changing the subject. "Take whatever ya need, we'll have a night at our disposal before leaving it again. Or even better. Let's sleep the day there and then leave at night."

Grimmjow nods, albeit still angry.

* * *

**12:25 AM**

**Domare/February 22nd, 1671 Post Lapsum**

**Underworld**

We've avoided villages and towns like plague. Despite that, we still ended up in one hamlet and we had to fight the angry citizens. With or without hoods, these guys recognize our silhouettes. They probably don't know our true identities- Astalur/Aezur or whatever names they have for us- but they know us as the Tamer and his Apprentice. Yes, now they think Grimmjow is some sort of pupil of mine.

_Idiots._

"Have you considered actually telling them the truth? Like how you stopped the dragon from killing everyone?" Grimmjow asks at some point, shortly after our encounter with the angry villagers.

"Fuck no!" I spit. "They'd never believe me, us. They're completely convinced I set that fire-spitting beast on killing mode. Plus, The King's payin' a pretty penny ta have us, dead or alive," I point out.

"Any idea who this King person is?" he asks all of the sudden and I shut up.

The Underworld doesn't have a king. The Underworld is not a country. It certainly isn't a kingdom. Those strong enough bully, torture or kill the weak. That's all to it. However, some try to sneak on top of the world and have everyone kneel before them. No one ever succeeded. In the old days, there were many wars on this theme- trying to be the strongest. But most of the time, those battles ended with both sides severely injured and almost extinct, that we all stopped trying. It's been peaceful for the past two hundred years.

"Nah," comes my answer. "I have no idea who'd be foolish enough as to try that. Clearly, no old power's to blame. They're all dead, mostly. So it hasta be some new fuck who thinks he's some powerful shit," I scoff. "There's always one. I'm a bit surprised it took him so long ta appear," I grimace.

"You don't seem too concerned," it's not a question, but it's his way of trying to get me elaborate on the subject.

Suddenly, a wild grin colours my features. "I think we both know the _true_ reason as to why there are no wars in the Underworld anymore."

"Right," he says dryly before we start our run again.

The Underworld hasn't always been a vast land of dryness and sand. It's never really been too green either, but it wasn't always like this. Doomcaster didn't even exist two hundred years ago or so and if it did, it was a tiny good for nothing village. The centre of the Underworld was Tronio. Tronio was huge and had imposing apparently unbreakable buildings. Villages were green enough to have farms and the mythical folk grew plants, fruits and vegetables. There were natural rivers- not magic generated ones. We had the kind of animals you see in human minds now.

But the 1466 Post Lapsum* fire changed it all. It was no normal fire- it had magical origin. The flames rose above the Underworld and engulfed the whole world in its deadly flames. The land went dry, cities and villages burned along with people. Many races went extinct. The Underworld was almost empty, but the strongest and/or the luckiest survived. The Last Rain extinguished the black flames that covered the Underworld. Ever since then, no water drops fell down this land. Some of the remaining elders created the river that crosses Doomcaster with their last powers before vanishing into thin air.

Ever since then, no one has ever dared to try start a war and we limited ourselves to little crimes. The culprit of the Black Fire, as it is called by some people, was never found. Their identity is unknown. It is believed that they died too along with many other in the flames. That's how all this peaceful façade started. People are afraid too challenge each other, to try to climb on top of this world because the Black Fire incident might happen again if they do. That's why the so-called King must be some snot-nosed brat who knows shit about this world and thinks he can rule this place just because he has money apparently. Boy, is he wrong!

After hours of non-stop running, we decide to try to spend the night at an inn in Teadale. I may not require sleep, but Grimmjow does, so we have to take a break. Teadale is one of the relatively big towns and it's well known for being a neutral territory. No matter what kind of problems you have with the outside world, they cannot be settled within the town. However, if you're not born in there, you're welcome in that town for only a day. I clearly wasn't born there. Grimmjow has his origins in another place too.

_The Bronze Shield Inn _is half empty, half full, but that doesn't stop the visitors to be super loud and drunk too. All the better for us. The drunker they are, the harder is for them to recognize us. I also gave up on my long cloak before coming in Teadale and Grimmjow has too. We are dressed plainly, both in back clothes, trying to stand out as little as possible. At the counter, a rather bored vampire is looking at us.

"What'd be, whitey?" she asks measuring me from head to toe. I resist the urge to smack her.

"A room. Two singles," I say as relaxed as I can eyeing her from head to toe. She doesn't look bad, but she isn't fine either. Her gaze drifts to Grimmjow behind me and she quickly studies him from head to toe before looking back at me and arching an eyebrow.

"Are ya sure 'bout it?" she asks, slightly teasingly and I lean a bit over the counter to look into her eyes closely.

"Very sure," I smile, but it doesn't reach my eyes and she suddenly pulls back startled.

"O-okay," and she turns to look for the keys. "There they are," she slams them against the counter. "That'd be 10 Feathers and 5 Bits. Second floor, room 7," she mumbles. With a grin, I place the money on the counter and take the keys. Throwing one of them at Grimmjow, we walk towards the stairs and just before stepping on them, I turn to look at her, grinning widely.

"Have a _nice_ evening, miss!" and I disappear. Grimmjow before me is shaking his head in disapproval, clearly unamused with my behaviour.

"You didn't have to be so mean, idiot," he scolds. "It wouldn't be the first time people think we are together," he points out and I stick my tongue out at him as we reach the first floor.

"You're being Grumpy Granny again, Grimmjow. Yer gonna be all wrinkly 'n' hunched before ya reach 600, if ya keep bein' such a mother hen. This is the Underworld, idiot. _Everyone_'s mean here. Save for elves. Those are stuck up motherfuckers," I grimace at the thought of the tall blonde creature and their justice crap. Grimmjow rolls his eyes.

"That's why humans cast us out of Earth. We are too mean for our own good," he mumbles grumpily and suddenly the mood darkens.

"Don't let yerself be fooled by their smiles and flower power shit. Humans are just as greedy as us, pal. They want the Earth for themselves and themselves only. That's the truth. They can't stand the thought of having someone as intelligent as them or even smarter than them exist nearby. They crave for power even worse than us," I speak steadily, but firmly. We are now at the second floor.

"And how'd you know that?" he raises an eyebrow at my little speech, but I keep looking for room number 7.

"I've read their minds." His other eyebrow shoots up, his eyes wide in curiosity and slight shock. I sigh. "Yeah, I can read minds. But I am not an Incubus," I say before he can say anything. His hands shoot up in the air, trying to pretend to be innocent. "Don't fuck with me, I know ya were thinkin' it in yo' weird brain of yers," I accuse him, suddenly grinning at him before turning to unlock the door of our room. With a painful creak, the wooden door opens and reveals the two beds and a lonely dirty white table in a corner of the room. The air is damp and rotten and my first reaction is to go open the window.

"Do you think is safe to open it?" he asks as he crosses the room towards the beds.

"If yer so scared, I'll sleep by the window. Or more likely, I'll sit by the window," I tease and Grimmjow rolls his eyes.

"If I recall correctly, you slept last time," he points out, a grin forming on his lips. It's my turn to grimace at him.

"Sleeping is nice, but I don't need it. Last time was a mistake and I didn't know people were after us," I run a hand through my white hair, ruffling it. "Which reminds me...ya said tha' werewolf was after me. How didja know?"

"He entered the house and tried to kill you. Had a dagger in his hand and a very constipated look on his face. I jumped him. You were pretty out of it," he explains laying on the other bed.

"Do ya think he knew I was the Tamer?"

"Possibly. I don't know. I tried to make him talk, but he refused to say anythin'," he shrugs. "He seemed pretty dumb tho," he says suddenly disgusted at the memory.

"Hmm, I see."

Grimmjow yawns. I climb on top of the bed and slip under the covers, but sit with my ass on the pillow, back rested against the cold damp wall and eyes cast the table right before me. Grimmjow's probably undressing himself to sleep, but I don't really pay attention to him. No words are exchanged and soon the rustling of sheets tell me that he covered himself in blankets too, ready to sleep.

"Good night, Shirosaki," he mumbles.

"Night, idiot," I reply without looking at him and the silence has never felt so heavy before.

Maybe minutes pass until I move from my spot to sit on another part of the hard mattress, arms resting on the window sill. The moon is shining brightly on the dark red sky and lazy heavy black clouds pass the sky undisturbed by the everyday problems of the Underworld. It was easier hundreds of years ago. Everyone was insane and showing it. Now we are all insane, but trying to seem otherwise. If I am to be honest, I miss the thrill of the battle, the rivers of blood and the anguished screams.

I'm a demon and I am not trying to deny it.

Everyone who knows me, knows not to spark my interest because they never last long around me. They also know not to approach me- in both a friendly or enemy like manner. Unless they're not idiots. Grimmjow's an idiot too, but he is also stubborn and I still haven't gotten rid of him. He's playing with fire and he knows it, but most likely he doesn't care, he thinks he can tame the beast or something. Hell if I know what's in his weird head of his.

I don't have friends. I don't need friends.

Demons don't mingle with each other. But some of us, most of us build some sort mythical gangs sometimes. And if they're feeling brave, they might even start families with other species, giving birth to fucked up hybrids. But not many venture the family path. Demons are anything but peaceful. A family must have peace, more or less. We go insane, if we cannot fuck shit up. That's probably why most of the old ones killed themselves or disappeared.

Suddenly, fingers brush against the back of my neck and the next second I am straddling my attacker's waist, dagger raised in the air and in motion towards any of their vital points. But my hand freezes in mid-air, eyes widen at the figure under me.

"Sharp as ever, I see," his lips curl in a teasing grin.

"Fuck you, Jeagerjaques," I spit. "I almost killed you, you insane fool!" I half shout in anger, half cry in exasperation.

"Watch it. I might think you care," if possible his grin grows wider as he reaches for my face and caresses my cheek with his calloused thumb.

"Tch. We both know that's not possible," I say rather annoyed with his holier than thou attitude. "So, what's it this time? Have some suicidal thoughts in the middle of the night?"

"It's past midnight," he points out and I roll my eyes. "And no. I just wanted to have some fun, if you catch my drift," he wiggles his eyebrows at me and I give him an unamused stare. "What? I haven't had fun in a while with all the runnin' and dragon crap! I'm a healthy male and need some action," I roll my eyes again at his childish behaviour, but say nothing. "Plus I doubt you'd want me to go to a brothel now. Or try find someone in this inn. We're too in too much deep shit to risk doing strangers. Which also reminds me, you yourself haven't done it in ages," he points out and I stare at him.

"Yer exaggeratin'- it wasn't _that_ long," I argue and he raises an eyebrow.

"Oh really? How long then?"

"Umm...well...I think it was something like seven decades, but I am not sure about that one," I say scratching my chin and trying to remember. I used to flirt a lot in Doomcaster, but I never actually felt like doing it. I always lost my appetite halfway through. Sure, in my younger days, I used to have fucking orgies and shit, but they somehow got too boring for me. Not that it's any of his business anyway.

"Seven decades?! You think?! Fuckin' hell!" he almost yells clearly outraged with my answer, but my stare is just as bored as before. "Don't tell me..." he pauses and I arch one of my eyebrows, trying to pursue him to go on, but too lazy to say anything. "It was with me, wasn't it?" he asks, suddenly serious and slightly constipated. Oh, yes, today wouldn't be the first time we'd go at it. I shrug.

"Maybe. I don't really know." And I am not even lying.

"Fuck! You sure have gotten old, man," he says dryly.

"Watch it, Jeagerjaques! Just 'cuz ya ain't dead yet, doesn't mean ya can't and ya won't," I threaten. He rolls his eyes, just like usual whenever I try to remind him not to annoy me. Apparently, he never listens. Instead, he pushes himself up, our faces centimetres apart and eyes locked. His hand travels lower, slowly and rests at the base of my neck. He comes closer, his cheek and soft blue hair brushing against my cheek as he dives further, lips now barely touching my ear.

"Lemme make you feel _good,"_ he purrs in a low voice before breathing softly against my neck.

"How 'bout no?" I say quietly and curse myself for sounding so unsure. The bastard sure imagines he's winning- which he is not- and it pisses me off.

"Don't be a sour puss, Shiro," he says in a cunning, yet firmer voice, making sure to add strength on my name, his hands slipping under my tunic. "It would be a shame," he continues in a slow voice while his fingers travel somehow above my skin, "if ya were," he digs his nails on my back and slides them down quickly. I am caught out of breath and I instantly bite down my lower lip, forcing myself to remain as silent as a lamb*.

He probably senses this because he is soon leaving my back alone, but he's now focusing on my not so sleepy anymore , but still bored penis, palming it through the fabric of my pants and trying to get my attention. He is looking at me, huge grin plastered on his face and slight lust gleaming in his eye. He is getting quite interested in this already. With his other hand he cups the back of my neck and pulls me in a rather needy sloppy kiss and I snap. With one hand I grab his hair, pulling him into a rough kiss while invading his mouth my tongue, with the other hand I push him against the mattress.

If we're going to do this, we're playing by my rules.

* * *

The next morning comes in a rush and I swear I had no idea the morning light could be so destructive*. I untangle myself from the sheets and Grimmjow's limbs too. The idiot is still sleeping, mouth agape and drool pooling under him. Ew. I smack his head and he flinches startled, confusion written on his sleepy eyes.

"Get dressed 'n' wipe that drool off yer face, you ugly shit," I say standing up and collecting the clothes from the floor throwing them at him before getting my own from the floor as well with a rather displeased face and putting them on. There's a mirror on the wall, albeit dusty and scorched, I can clearly see the huge hickey on my neck. "Tch. Fuckin' animal."

"That's not what you said last night!" he shouts after me as I get out of the room. I growl in annoyance. Why do I always have to deal with his shit? Oh right. Because for some unknown reason I still haven't killed him yet. I should do it pretty soon or I'll never hear the end of it. With more growls and grunts, I descend the stairs until I am at the ground floor and soon enough Grimmjow joins me, dopey smile on his lips and triumph in his eyes. Fuck him. Oh wait. I did. Ughh. "Who's Grumpy Granny now?" he teases wiggling his eyebrows at me and I stare at him with stupor.

And, suddenly, I remember why I haven't done it with him in such a long while- he's always an insufferable git about it the next morning. No, scratch that. He's like this for like a week or two. Great. Well done, Shirosaki. I should really do something about my memory- I always get into shit like this because I never remember important stuff.

We sit at a large wooden table and the vampire girl from the other day comes to us, a notepad in her hands.

"A peach mooncake and a Silver Bullet for me," I grumble and watch Grimmjow's face contort in fear. Silver Bullet is the name of an alcoholic drink, but it's also a thing that can kill werefolk.

"A fish soup and a Demon Crusher," he bites back crossing his arms at his chest and looking at me with the corner of his eyes, hoping, probably, to see my horrified expression. I only grin back at him.

"I told you you didn't need two singles," she says suddenly, shaking her head in disapproval before taking off leaving us mouth agape and staring at each other.

"Fuck," we say at the same time and then we stop to stare some more at each other. We burst in loud laughter at the same time.

"Oh, boy," Grimmjow says after minutes of laughter, whipping his tears off his face. "I haven't laughed so hard in ages, I swear," he states and I nod.

"She's _oh-so-pissed_ about it!" I manage between laughters. "Bet she wants a piece of this gorgeous, but she'll never have it," I say pointing at myself and Grimmjow rolls his eyes.

"I'm sexier than you any day, snowflake!" he challenges. I look at him suspiciously.

"No way, man! If I could, I'd marry myself," I state and Grimmjow clicks his tongue in annoyance.

"I bet you would."

"Ya would too," I say slowly, "if ya could, that is," I tease sensing how my lips quickly curl in a huge sly grin.

"Bloody hell, no!" he almost shouts in a disgusted horrified voice and I snigger.

"That's not what ya said last night," I retort. "If I remember correctly, it was something among: "oh, Shiro, f-faster! Ha-harder! Pleeeaaaseee give it to me!"," I say in a high-pitched voice, hugging myself, closing my eyes and biting my lower lip every now and then, trying my best not to laugh.

"You fucker...!" he growls in annoyance, balling his fists.

"Ya called? Didn't ya have enough last night?" I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively and he shoots up in his feet, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt.

"You're so, so dead, Shirosaki," he whispers and I arch an eyebrow at him as to mock him before I slap his hand away effortlessly.

"This is Teadale. Behave!" I mutter firmly and his nostrils flare, but he shuts up and sits down. Minutes pass and none of us say anything.

"I liked it though," he says in the end, grin splitting his face in two. "You were even better than last time."

"I know, right?" I reply, grinning back. The vampire girl who came back at our table with our food and drinks is giving us bored stares. So we both wiggle her eyebrows at her. She rolls her eyes and leaves.

"Kids," she mutters.

"Kids don't fuck, miss!" I shout after her and make Grimmjow choke on his food . The rest of the tavern is either giving us weird stares or simply laugh at the scene too.

In the Underworld, unlike human world, gender doesn't matter. Sure, some stick to just one, but most of us prefer to mix them. From what I've seen in human thoughts, most of them think it's wrong to like the same sex, that's it's some sort of sin and that they are either going to hell or for those who don't believe in God and hell, then it's just not natural to be "gay"/"lesbian" as they put it. We don't bother with labels. We do what we fucking want and no one bats an eyelid. Except when burnings occur. I think that if there is any rule in the Underworld, that'd be: don't fucking destroy it whole.

Grimmjow and I have done it in the past enough to not be able to count them on both my fingers and toes. But we are not lovers. We mostly do it out of boredom or when we can't really do it with someone else, like last night. Or he can't, because I am not that interested.

"You know, if there's somethin' on yo' mind, you can tell me," he says all of the sudden pulling me out of my thoughts. I frown. "Yesterday, you didn't even feel me move behind your back before I touched you. You're usually super sharp about stuff like that. Not to mention you're usually even worse when someone's after your head," he explains and I can feel my face hardening.

"It's nothing."

"Shiro, we've been here before. There _is_ somethin' botherin' you," I glare at him this time. "Is it the whole King thing?" he clearly ignores my glare and leans over the table to whisper. "Or maybe you're afraid of the ritual?" I double the intensity of my glare. "Perhaps it's both."

"Perhaps I'll punch you. In the face. With two swords," I mutter venomously.

"So it's both," he says quiet pleased with himself before leaning back against his chair, arms folded at his chest. "We both know you'll be fine. I highly doubt that person is able to raise hell, let alone pull something really nasty. As for the ritual... we'll cross that bridge when it comes to it," Grimmjow tells me calmly.

"Since when did you become my therapist?"

"Since you began actin' like an idiot," he smiles cheekily at me and I puff in annoyance. "Don't worry, I'll be there to get yo' back no matter what!" he winks, his thumb up.

"What a sap," I mutter, but despite myself I feel the corners of my mouth turn up ever so slightly before I stuff my face with food to avoid unnecessary comments from Grimmjow. If the werecat notices, he says nothing.

And soon we are on the road again, but not before teasing the vampire girl some more with phrases like: "have fun cleaning the sheets!" or "be grateful the furniture is still usable!" or "be honest, you were totally eavesdropping last night, that's why you look so awful!". Oh boy, her face was priceless.

"I think that if we teased her any longer, she'd have spontaneously combusted," Grimmjow says sniggering at the thought. I chuckle.

"She deserved it though," I point out.

"Did she, really?" he asks playfully and I punch his arm lightly. "Well, we gotta go now, so you better move that ass or we'll get caught," and with a curt nod, we start running in the midday sun.

* * *

**11:56 PM**

**Domare/February 23rd, 1671 Post Lapsum**

**Doomcaster, Underworld**

The night has fallen by the time we set foot on the dusty city of Doomcaster. The streets are full of people, but to our luck, there are also many figures clothed in dark cloaks. After we left Teadale, we put on our long capes and kept running towards our destination. So far, no one has recognized us as the Tamer and his Apprentice or accomplice. Which is great. If we are lucky enough, we'll manage to sneak in, take our stuff and disappear without a trace.

Papers with our silhouettes are posted on the walls though. And the streets are crowded with angry and scared people. The uneasy feeling that took over Doomcaster weeks ago still lingers in the air or to be more precise, it's even thicker than before. If I stay here for too long, I'll get overcharged again and go out of control.

"Ah, I missed this!" Grimmjow announces, while stretching his back, as we pass the streets. "Can you feel this amazing smell of fish? No where in the Underworld can you find fish as good!" and there he goes again, babbling about fish and he'll probably keep it up for hours.

"I dunno, man. It stinks to me," I grimace. I hate the smell of fish.

"Oh, right. Forgot about your fish hate," he rolls his eyes. "You have issues, buddy," he pats my back in a pitiful manner.

"More like _you_ have them. It's just fish. And I ain't the only one who doesn't like it. Yer bein' melodramatic," I brush past him trying to speed up the pace of our walk.

The streets are full of merchants and their goods, mostly consisting of food like sweets and sandwiches. Red lanterns are swinging softly in the warm air of the night, painting the city in red, inviting the mythical folk to go out and explore the city and what it has to offer. It's one of the biggest festivals in Doomcaster and it starts just a bit before the extra hot season starts. Why people are celebrating that, I wouldn't know.

Despite all of my protests, Grimmjow buys himself fish and insists on eating it while on our way to the shop. He is now making gross, waay too pleased face as he devours his meal and I barely manage not to gag at the horrible scene next to me.

"I'm tellin' ya: I won't have any stinky fish in my shop, so ya better finish that," I point at the fish in his hand with the most disgusted face I can make, "or I'll make sure ya won't ever eat fish again," I threaten and he huffs a laugh. "Laugh all ya want now while ya still can."

In the end, we make it to the shop, fish-free and unharmed. Pulling the set of keys out of my pocket and commanding the door to open as I unlock it, it offers no resistance and opens smoothly and soundless. Only to have both me and Grimmjow stare in shock at the room before us.

_"Took you a while, didn't it?"_

**To be continued...**

* * *

**A.N.:**

*1466 Post Lapsum fire. Yes, I made a reference to the 1666 fire. Just cause I could.

*****Silent as a lamb...silence of the lambs. See what I did here? I am a fellow Hannibal fan. I haven't watched the TV Show yet, but the movies are amazing. So are the books!

*I had no idea the morning light could be so destructive. Reference to Sekaiichi Hatsukoi, second episode, I guess, in which Onodera and Takano stay up all night long to finish their job and then after it's done they drink some coffee or something like that. It's also the morning when Takano tells Onodera who he is. Oh, boy!

I speak fluent "referencese"- if that's a word.

Anyway, sorry for the smut, not smut between Shiro and Grimmjow. I promise that the Shiro and Ichi stuff will be all full and detailed nicely. And obviously not with Ichigo in dragon form. Eww. :/

If ya liked this story so far, please tell me what you think. If I should improve, again, don't be shy and say it.

Cheers!


	5. Chapter 4

**DRACONEM INFERNALIS**  
**Chapter 4**

**Criminals**

_"And I have fallen,_

_And I have risen,_

_I have also watched the world crumble before my eyes,_

_Unable to repair the deed I've done._

_I've watched chaos unfold before my lust and power hungry eyes_

_And done nothing when I could_

_That's why I, now, burn in hell..."_

_~.~_

* * *

**Shiroski's P.O.V.:**

**12:12 AM  
Domare/February 24th, 1671 Post Lapsum  
The Corrupted Arsenal, Spin Road, Doomcaster  
Underworld**

Through darkness, a rather tall figure can be distinguished sitting in the middle of the room. With a snap of my fingers, the room becomes lightened, but the intruder claps his hands and the lights go off, annulling my magic.

"What the hell?" I mumble under my breath and the figure approaches me, inches apart from my face.

"Say, don't you think you have too much dangerous stuff in just one room?" his voice is both serious, with a gleam of amusement and mockery. My nostrils flare.

"I don't see how this would be any of an intruder's business," I bite back. His chuckle is soft and short-lived, but enough to set me on fire. However, I do nothing but clench my hands around my daggers, waiting for him to either explain himself or try to attack me. "So, spit it out! Whaddya want, huh?" I raise my voice slightly, trying to get his attention.

"My, my. So fierce, aren't we?" he teases and I can feel the sudden urge to slice him in tiny pieces. "First of all, clobse the door," his tone becomes slightly more severe and I point at the door with my head for Grimmjow to go get it. He does it, albeit reluctant. And soon, we are sunk in darkness.

"How didja get in here? Talk or I might be forced to end ya. Darkness is not that much of a deal for us," I motion to Grimmjow and I with my thumb.

"I know that, Rusarin," I narrow my eyes, "I am highly aware of the owner's power of the shop I've just broken in," I can hear the smirk in his voice. "But I want your full attention on what I am about to tell you. Both of you, but especially you, Rusarin."

I click my tongue in annoyance. "Well, can ya stop blabbering and actually tell me what you want from me, us? I don't have time for games 'n' tricks."

"Oh, and why is that? Could it possibly be because the Underworld is on your asses?"

"You! How do you know about that?!" Grimmjow shouts.

"A little birdie told me..." I swear I'll strangle him, at least. "...that you two are trying to do the impossible: help the dragon become human and then break free from this world, am I right?" I drop one of my daggers in the shock of the moment, the metallic cling echoes in the small dark room. Whoever this fucker is, he is waay too well informed. I need to finish him off, but not before I get answers. "Hit a nerve or two, huh? Why don't we go discuss this elsewhere?"

"I ain't goin' anywhere, freak. If ya have somethin' to say, do it here, before I lose my patience," I threaten, feeling the last drops of patience spilling away.

"Very well."

And with the clap of his hands the room is lightened by a low red light. The man before me wear a striped green and white hat, blonde locks shadowed by the hat, and a green kimono and pants cover the rest of his body. His lips are curled in a wide smirk and his eyes barely show. He sits on the floor and motions his hand towards the floor for us to do the same. We comply, albeit warily.

"So? How did you break in?" Grimmjow speaks and suddenly the intruder huffs a laugh. "Scratch that. Why did you do it?"

"I've been watching you guys for a while. The sudden increase in negative emotions affects me too. So I decided to investigate it, but then I ran into you two. I saw the scene, Rusarin. You stopped the dragon. So I told this buddy here," he points at the crow standing on his shoulder, "to follow you."

"I see. That still doesn't explain what you want."

"I want to come with you," he announces all of the sudden. I arch an eyebrow at him. Grimmjow stiffens behind me, "I'll help, of course."

"And how will you do that, hmm?" Grimmjow snarls.

"I happen to have some of the ingredients you need for the spell," he digs his hand in one of his pockets and takes out two jars. "I have the fang of a vampire and the wing of a faerie. I think you two have the fur of a werewolf, the demon blood," he grins at me, " and the dragon will give us one of his teeth. All that's left it's the eye of a witch. Which won't be easy since your pall killed almost every wizard in the Underworld, but we'll manage."

"Why do you want to leave the Underworld?" Grimmjow asks all of the sudden.

"Why do you want, hmm?" he retorts and I let out a sigh. "So, what do you say, demon?" his attention is back on me. "Deal?" he extends his hand at me and for a while no one says anything.

"Deal," I take it and shake it.

"Call me Niq, it's one of my names," he offers.

"Self-given?" I inquire.

"No."

"I see," I run a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling very tired. Not physically, but more like fed up, jaded. "Well, that's all nice and dandy, but we need to take our stuff 'n' leave before the night's over," I turn to look at Grimmjow," you take out everything on that side of the room, I do the rest."

"What about me?" Niq asks.

"You stay where you are."

"You don't trust me with your weapons," it's not a question, but somehow it feels like one. I huff a laugh.

"Of course not," I scoff and start moving around the room, taking weapons and throwing them in a huge leather bag. Grimmjow is doing the same on the other side of the room and the intruder is just sitting in the middle of the shop, arms crossed. "Do I look like an idiot to ya?" I shake my head in disbelief, but Niq doesn't answer and only the cling of metal blades can be heard.

"Skodir's The Great armour, huh?" he says in the end, admiring the armour. It was never there for sale, but for decorative purposes. I nod. I wouldn't be needing it, Niq probably gets it too. "You were pretty harsh back then," he says in a voice like he is more talking to himself than to anyone else. "Got so annoyed you sliced the King of the Dwarves with your bare hands...dropped your weapons to the ground and simply slaughtered him like he was made of paper," he continues and I click my tongue in annoyance. Where is he going with this? "No dwarf dares to cross paths with you. Nor do other demons. After you killed Skodir, you went on a rampage and killed everyone on the battle field, including your comrades. Oh, old times."

"Will ya shut up for once? I think I know very well what I did and what I didn't," I grumble in the end, but don't turn to look at him fearing I might actually get pissed off with his smug face. "I'm a demon, you couldn't possibly be expecting me to be sorrowful over shit I've done."

"Of course not, Rusarin-kun."

"Ew, drop the 'kun'. It gives me the creeps." Just like the rest of your behaviour. But I don't say it out loud. He probably knows I am thinking it anyway. But before he gets the chance to say anything else, a loud bang disrupts the half-assed peace of our room, revealing a fat man and a serious-looking woman in black trench coats, guns pointing at us.

"Shit!" I mumble under my breath. It seems that they've found us.

"DROP THE BAGS! HANDS IN THE AIR!" the man's voice echoes in the room and I reluctantly lay the bag on the floor. "YOU TOO, HAT 'N' CLOGS!" he motions his gun at Niq, who doesn't seem too impressed by their performance.

"Why? I don't have a bag," he says almost innocently I find that I have a hard time trying not to face-palm. Are you shitting me? Does he really have no boundaries? But I brush it off and take it as a chance to slip a hand in my pocket and draw out one of my daggers.

Right after, I don't hesitate to cross the room and attack the man, but I am soon stopped by a very stern faced woman who is giving me the death glare of my life. Without a word, she pushes me back and soon her sword is at my neck. I grin.

"Well, go on. Cut it, Miss Something-crawled-up-my-ass-'n'-died," I challenge and she narrows her eyes, pressing the blade on my Adam's apple just enough to draw blood. If anything, my grin grows larger, "wrong move, bitch!" and with that I move my right foot, kick her hard enough to make her land on her butt and quickly stand up, ready to attack.

Grimmjow is fighting the fat man not too far from me, but I don't have time for that. I jump on top of her, but she kicks me in the stomach, sending me in the nearest wall and kicking the air out of me. It's a shock, but I regain my composure quickly and launch an attack at her side, which surprises her and I manage to break a few ribs with my punch.

"What's yer goal, eh?" I question her before aiming for her face, but she blocks me.

"You've disrupted the peace, vermin. The King wants your head," she spits and hits my temple with such a speed I don't see it coming and take a full blown. Soon, I am on my knees, dagger on the floor. Between metal clings and huffs and grunts, I can hear Niq's voice calling, saying something. I bite my lower lip in anger. This chick won't have me here. She probably knows I am regaining my strength too, because next thing I know, she is on her knees, hands on my neck, gripping tight. "I've got troops outside, so it's useless." I let out a strangled laugh. Literally.

"Ya obviously don't know me if ya think a couple o' punches and harsh words can finish me off."

"Oh, I know, Astalur. You're some tough shit," she says, almost grinning, "but you're still shit." Her grip tightens.

_Call the dragon._

This thought almost mentally punched me. If it's mine or someone else's, I don't know, but for now it would seem like a great idea. I don't know if it'll work, but I gotta try. So without really thinking much about it, I think about how the dragon's mind felt when I first talked to him and launched a thought with as much power as I could muster at the moment.

Come get me, tiger!

She is now lifting me up in the air, probably trying to knock me unconscious. But I won't have that. I gather all my strength in one foot and then kick her. Hard. Fast. She falls to the ground with a grunt. I yell after Grimmjow to get outside and I grab my bag from the ground, leaving.

But in front of my store, there are more than twenty creatures, all wearing black trench coats, guns in their hands. Heh, this is going to be such a pain in the ass. A werewolf is the first to attack me, already in wolf form, so I grab him by the collar and rip his head off. He tried to claw at my skin, but he was too slow, so instead of slicing me up, he ended up dead in less than a minute.

I grin at the crowd, challenging them to attack me.

"C'mon, guys! Don't be shy! The party's just started!" I yell, my voice coming out a bit too excited than I have intended. Some of them growl in fury and before I know, I'm attacked from all angles. But my arms move too fast, my legs too, and although I get bruises and cuts here and there, I don't feel them. They don't stop me and most certainly, they don't scare me.

I'm laughing. Quite loud too.

And I don't know how much time goes before a loud ear-splitting screech thunders in the sky, a sudden shadow's cast above Spin Road. It's the dragon. He's come for me. Us. If possible, my mood brightens. People retreat, scared and disoriented. The dragon lowers himself as much as he can.

**_Well? What are you waiting for? Get up!_**

He urges, suddenly impatient. I chuckle and call for Grimmjow, who is surprisingly just behind me. Niq too.

**Get up?**

I ask surprised.

**_Yes, up. Aren't you taking the buffoon with you too?_**

He's probably talking about Niq. I snigger. And without a second thought I jump on top of him, quickly putting my hands around his neck. It burns, but I say nothing. Soon we are in the air, the angry shouts of our attackers dissipating into thin air, their bullets never hitting their targets.

**_Hold on tight, demon, this might get a bit rough._**

He warns, slightly amused before going up, a bit too fast for my liking. Grimmjow is complaining below. Niq is probably sniggering at him. And I...I feel amazing. Free. I love flying. I don't know why, but I do. I love the feeling you get when you're above of the world. Unreachable and free. Before I know it, I am laughing. Full-hearted laugh.

~.~

_Later..._

~.~

"God, I hate you so much!" Grimmjow spits between pants and vomit attacks. He's probably talking to the dragon. Said dragon doesn't seem too fazed by it, in the contrary, I'd say he's pretty pleased. "Fuck you!" the werecat yells before barfing yet again.

"Now, now. No need to be so hateful, kitty," I tease knowing too well that I am probably digging my own grave, but not caring enough to not do it.

"Fuck you too!" he grumbles, giving me one of his death glares while whipping his mouth.

"Nah, I think it's the other way 'round, pretty boy," I feel my lips curl in a waay too wide grin, but I don't stop it. He doubles his glare and shows me the middle finger. I chuckle. "Anyway, now that all's settled, I think we need to discuss," I turn to face the dragon, then Niq. "Because of that little stunt ya pulled," I look at the dragon, "people are after our asses. They think we ordered ya to burn hamlets." The dragon remains silent. "Yeah. Nice, isn't it? And ya showin' up to save us today will only confirm the rumours: that I am yer tamer or some shit," the dragon's nostrils flare. "Yeah. So no matter what we'll say, they won't believe us. Ya better get our backs, like today, otherwise the deal's off."

Silence. I can tell how everyone is waiting for some sort of answer coming from the dragon.

**_Fine._**

He says in the end, grumpily, clearly displeased and not afraid to show it. I pat his left arm? quickly in a pitying gesture with my still burned hand, before retreating it and putting it in my pocket.

"As for the buffoon," I point at Niq who made a shocked appalled face, "he's Niq and broke in my store, claiming to have ingredients for your human spell. In exchange, he wants to come with us to human world." The dragon nods. I clap my hands. "Good. Now, let's eat!" I say and next second, a table full of food appears before us.

Minutes later into our not really silent meal, Niq decides to make it officially not silent. "Say, Rusarin-san..."

"Drop the "-san"," I say rather fiercely. I swear he's doing it on a purpose.

"What's the next move?" he completely ignores my last sentence. I shrug. To be honest, I have no fucking idea and at this, both Grimmjow and the dragon give me a questioning look. "What?" I ask and they blink but don't say anything. "I'm not a fucking encyclopaedia! I've said it before and I'll say it again, but I really am not a wizard. Believe it or not but I have no idea what I am doing half of the time..."

"Well, that's charming," Niq murmurs loud enough to make himself heard. At that, I throw him a glare trying to warn him. Seriously, this guy is getting on my nerves. "Luckily, I know what we need to do next," he boasts.

I feel my eyebrow twitching. "Then why the fuck did you even ask us if we knew how to do it?!"

"Oh, I just wanted to see if you actually had no idea what you were doing," he says, innocently smiling at me and I abruptly stand up ready to punch this man.

**_Cut it out, you two!_**

It's an order. Loud and clear in my head, resonating in my entire being. It stops me right before my clenched fist can collide with Niq's face. But in that brief moment that seemed to last longer than it should have, I can see the man's usually careless attitude shift dramatically to a startled one.

It takes me a while to register what actually happened. And when I do, it's my time to be shocked.

"You…" I turn to face the dragon who is now standing in his fours, eyes narrowed in a frown. I turn my attention to Grimmjow, who is just like everyone else, startled. "You could talk all this time to everyone?" My voice is almost a whisper. I don't even know what to make of this, if this is true.

**_Yes._**

I look around. And it doesn't take me too long to understand that they all heard him. I sigh. "Then why, in the blue hell, did you not do it before?" I mean he could have saved us a lot of trouble by simply talking to everyone himself, not make me tell them what he's been saying.

**_Why should I have done so? I speak to whom I please, when I please. You petty souls can't make me explain myself when you want me to._**

…

The silence falls. And it stretches for an indefinite amount of time.

"Are ye for real?" I ask completely unamused, eyebrow slightly quirked. Grimmjow's eyes widen the size of dinner plates, Niq shakes his head energetically as if he's trying to stop me, but I stand tall in front of the dragon, eyes fixed on his reptilian ones.

The dragon exhales in my direction and a gust of hot air envelopes me, but I do not back down and my gaze doesn't drop.

**_Who are you to question me?_**

At that, I grin bestially and take two steps forward. I hear Grimmjow's protests in the background as I approach the beast and put my hand on one of its claws. "Who are ya to order me around?"

The dragon frowns and raises his temperature, making my skin burn faster, but I do not retreat my hand.

**_You have no idea what I am capable of, tiny demon._**

I say nothing, but instead I close my eyes and don't move. At that, the dragon scoffs and chuckles, thinking he finally earned my obedience or fear, but suddenly he gasps, the air becoming inexplicably heavy for no real reason in just a matter of seconds. I press my harm firmly against his claw and open my eyes and suddenly the ground isn't just shaking, but it's also sinking under our feet.

The dragon looks surprised for a couple of seconds, then he regains his composure.

**_Mere tricks._**

I think everyone heard that, because suddenly Grimmjow grabs my shoulder. "Stop! Shiro, please, you _promised!" _There's despair in his voice and his eyes look worried. "Look, we both love destruction and whatnot, but right now we have to focus on the task at hand. If you keep displayin' your powers like this we'll soon be found and I don't think we need this." I say nothing. "Please!"

Letting out a sigh, I lower my spiritual power and turn to look at him. "Fine." Grimmjow sighs relieved, so I turn to look at the dragon. "But don't think this is over, dragon," I warn and he scoffs. "Alright, where were we?"

**To be continued…**


End file.
